Looking down at the cave from his hillside vantage, Darkor felt his blood rage with revenge, knowing his adversary was alive and well within. He wanted nothing more than to slay the beast who resided there, though even through his fury, he knew such rashness would be his own downfall. Even with all the time and preparation in the world, his chances of victory were slim. But with all he had lost and all the world stood to lose if the beast was allowed to live, his path forward was clear. He had to at least try to slay the beast for revenge, for his country. For his pride and honor.
Being the newest knight to be inducted to his order, Darkor was hardly the most qualified for the task of vanquishing a dragon, let alone one as old as the great black beast that rested in this mountain hole. Yet, when a dragon’s attack on an outlying village summoned most of the knights to order, their fate was suspected to be much the same. As the only known dragon still alive in this part of the world, the black dragon, known as Parvot the protector, the culprit of the terrible attack was obvious. It would take weeks, months, for an army from an adjacent kingdom to come to his aid, and as foolhardy as it was to attack the dragon himself, Darkor could not let the atrocity slide.
With no other knights in the kingdom with qualifications, Darkor was able to take the best weapons and enchantments to prepare to take on a dragon. The enchanted blade Alabaster should have at least the sheer cutting power to damage a dragon, though as the wielder, Darkor left something to be desired. Still, it was the best chance he had, and even the slightest advantage to tip the scales was welcome. His garb was light for faster travel, and nearly soundless for a sneak attack on the beast, trading protection for stealth as his best chance of a successful kill.
And so there he was, standing on the hill to slay the beast that had taken out so many of his kinsmen. Parvot had not been seen in some time, likely save for those victims of the attacks, but his lair was well known, albeit a several-day trek out into the wilderness. Not something Darkor enjoyed, though it gave him the time to reflect on his life and steel his resolve. All he had lost and what little he had there was still to lose should he embark on this endeavor. None of that ultimately mattered with the all-consuming revenge that drove him on. By the time he had reached the peak overlooking the cave, he was sure of himself, or at least his decision. Whether he could succeed at all was a gamble, though one he was prepared to take to avenge the life of his comrades. And, hopefully, in their name, he would slay the beast.
Without a sign of detection, Darkor entered the cave, holding his breath from the obvious stench of dragon. At least he was sure this was the dragon’s lair, a sign the beast had been here recently. It was massive, with scorch marks around that dragons used to clean up after themselves and their meals. Putting out his torch so as not to signal his position as a tasty snack, a gleam in the distance seemed to be a sign of the dragon’s hoard. There were no sounds to denote the presence of the beast, but he was surely nearby, and Darkor crept along carefully. Ideally, he would find the creature sleeping, and be able to slay him, or at least critically wound him, before the dragon awoke to defend himself. And then…
In the dark, as he focused on finding the dragon, Darkor was not looking down and tripped, keeling over and slamming into something leaning upward, feeling something sharp penetrating his side and eliciting an audible cry of pain despite himself. It seemed to burrow itself quite deep, and Darkor was unsure if it had pierced anything vital, smaller as he was. There was no way to know, and likely no way to escape the cave and make the trek to aid, even if he managed to do so without losing too much blood. Going to pull it out, he stopped, figuring he was doomed either way but not wanting to bleed out first.
Intense despair overwhelmed him just then to the point he was inclined to cry. He had lost before he had even started, too slow with his wound even if the dragon did not hear his anguished cry. It was the most foolish thing that could have happened, and even though Darkor was sure he had prepared himself for death, when finally facing it, only the face of his mother and those in his unit who had been lost were brought to mind. And then, they were quickly erased with the sight of the eyes in the dark…
There was no denying the blinking visage to be that of a dragon, even though Darkor had never seen one up close. He was not expecting the sheer size of the beast, nor the stench of his hot breath on his face as the being regarded him with an expression of confusion rather than disdain. It was hard to be certain without knowledge of the creatures, but the one staring at him seemed to hold little ire, even knowing its domain was being invaded. Perhaps it had no issue which such, thinking human beings were beneath him, as befit the kind of beast that murdered innocent villagers and those soldiers that came to protect them.
With the last of his strength, Darkor raised his sword in a futile attempt to defend himself. There was little chance of him being able to do any damage to the dragon, but he would not go down helpless, wanting to die on his feet with a blade in his hand. “Get back, foul beast!” He tried to yell, though his voice was stunted by the pain in his side, and he wobbled a little, having used more energy than his wounded body could manage.
“Oh? Should I back away from you? Are you intending to do me harm?” Came a deep, resonating voice, one that Darkor was not expecting. He knew dragons were intelligent, but he’d never heard one speaking the common tongue, and he was a little taken aback, especially by the more inquisitive tone the beast employed.
“I’m here to kill you!” Darkor retorted, though with the weakness creeping through his body, there was little bravado in his tone.
“And what, pray tell, was the crime I committed? Surely, you aren’t one of those who think all dragons should be annihilated for existing? I have harmed no one, and seldom venture into your territory,” came the reply, more curiosity in the tone rather than offense that a wounded knight would be here to slay him. Not that he had anything to fear from Darkor or his blade, there was no denying that for either of them. But he did not sense any ire from the beast for this attempted assault, which was almost enough for Darkor to question his purpose here.
“You know what you did!” Came the reply, though Darkor could feel his face flush and found standing was becoming a tenuous affair.
“I’ve done many regretful things as of late, I’m afraid. Though none that would bother a human, I should think.”
“You destroyed my town! My order!” Darkor spat, using every ounce of his strength to remain standing in the presence of the beast.
“Heavens, no, that was hardly me. I wouldn’t think…my mate perhaps? Former mate, sorry. I honestly can’t say. I normally wouldn’t care what she did post my companionship, but I’d rather she wasn’t out there earning the ire of the human world.”
“Wait, why is it only you who have come, human? I wouldn’t think one would…human? Human?” Parvot asked, Darkor barely able to keep his eyes open as he wobbled again before falling down, sword clattering to the cave floor.
“Hmmm, that appears to be a mortal wound you have there. I wouldn’t say you’ve long to live, though I’m no expert on such things. Unfortunate. I prefer not to feed on humans, and I would not be fond of having to move your corpse. A compromise, perhaps? I can’t heal you directly, but I can save your life. Well, not your life as you know it, but well, I’m in need of a…well, it’s rather embarrassing, really, I digress. It seems that I don’t have time to explain, what with your situation. Shall I save your life, or not? You don’t have long to answer, it seems.”
“Don’t…touch me…” Darkor managed to sputter, coughing up blood as he did so. His eyes were fluttering shut, and there was every chance he would lose consciousness at any moment.
“Are you certain? It seems to be a horrible misunderstanding, and it’s a rare chance for both of us to…human? Human? Wake up,” Parvot demanded, almost reaching out with a clawed hand to shake the man awake, though not wanting to injure him any further.
“Fuck…if you don’t…I can’t get my…revenge…cure me…please…” Darkor managed to choke out, coughing up more blood again as he finally fell forward onto his knees, the impact shaking through his body as he passed out.
“Oh, my. I hope it’s not too late. I’ll at least try…” Parvot said, moving forward and gently placing his claws on the dying man. Taking a deep breath, he recalled the words of the spell in his draconic tongue, speaking them as ancient magic started flowing through his body and into Darkor’s, in hopes that he be changed to recover from the mortal wound and join him in a new purpose…
******
It felt like some years later when Darkor finally awoke, the dim light of a flame in the cave enough to give him a proper view. It took some time for him to recall why he was here and what had happened to him, though a tingling in his side made him all too aware there was once a deadly sword run through it. Yet, reaching down to the spot, there was no mark on the skin, though the clothing clearly looked as if it had been pierced. He did notice there was no pain from the area, though a dull ache resonated through his body, Darkot feeling as though ill.
“Ah, I see you’re awake! I’m glad the process worked. Not that I had any reservations about my magical abilities, mind, but I’ve never performed this particular incantation before, and you were already close to death that…”
Darkor went to yell at him when the dull ache started turning into a throbbing pain, one that began in his side but soon resonated outward. Reaching down to rub it, his hand caught on something, as though the texture was all wrong. The light was enough that he was able to look down, shocked at the sight of his side. It seemed that some sort of black rot had encroached across the skin, jagged and stiff as he rubbed it, curious.
“Oh, I believe it’s starting. That is good,” said Parvot, as though the sight of the darkening skin was to be expected.
Panicked now, Darkor started frantically rubbing the skin, hoping he was wrong and that the black shade was simply bruising in the low light of the cave. Though unfamiliar, it only took a cursory glance at his benefactor to discern it was the same covering he possessed, rough black scales that could only belong to a dragon. As if he was changing into one himself…
“What did you do to me?!” Darkor called out, struggling against the heat and irritation that signaled the spreading of the scales. Such transformation magic was not impossible, though hardly more than glamours, not the steadily spreading of scaly skin like rot over his form.
“Ah, yes, well, I could see why that would be confusing…” Parvot said, a little abashed by the process now that it was happening. Almost shameful of it, though Darkor hardly had a model for draconic inflections.
Darkor hardly had thought for further reflection as the ache against his clothing started to intensify. It was as though his clothing was shrinking, getting tighter and tighter around him and the spreading scales. With a soreness in his muscles, Darkor could only conclude that his garments were not shrinking, but rather growing, the being he was turning into far larger than anything man had ever prepared garb for.
“So uncomfortable…gods…why…” Darkor moaned, feeling the pressure reach the breaking point as the fabric strained and threatened to burst.
“I would consider removing those if I were you,” the dragon suggested, though he could not possibly know the kind of pain Darkor was in.
Stubborn as he was, Darkor did not disrobe, figuring there was something mentally he could do to try and resist the changes overcoming him. He had no idea if it was a battle of wills, though he did his best to focus on his human body, the form he had worn all his life. The one that was likely being robbed from him if the sensations of growth and change were any indication. Skin burning, hair seeming to evaporate, and meat and muscle expanding under the fabric seemed only to be increasing with each passing moment.
To his chagrin, he could tell the scales were covering much of his sides and back now, moving over his chest and torso in thicker plates for a draconic underbelly. Even if he had been prompted to take his clothes off, by this point, they were far too tight against his skin, and efforts to pull them off were for naught. The sides of his garments popped off, the thick scent of sweat and blood roiling off his form. But a more sickly, reptilian stench to match that in the cave soon took its place, and Darkor was privy to the sight of thick scutes removing signs he was ever human, giving him a uniform covering as he continued to change in unwanted ways.
Trying to pull off his bottoms was soon made futile as an ache started to overtake his fingers. Staring down in shock and horror, Darkor watched his fingers compress, the joints popping as they twitched their death throes before retracting into widening palms. Their bases started to grow squat as something sharp soon poked through the tips into the beginnings of what could only be draconic talons. Worse, his reflexively twitching thumbs were pulled within his wrists, passing widening palms. Soon, Darkor found he was barely able to flex the fingers, looking more like they were fit for a four-legged beast than the man he was.
“What’s happening!?” He called out, though the implications of such were rather obvious.
Parvot, too, seemed to share the sentiment. “I think it should be obvious! You’re becoming one of us, you see. We have no healing magic, per se, so in order to heal you, I needed to imbue you with my essence, so to speak. A spell exists to change one of your kind into a dragon, though, as you can likely imagine, it is very taboo. I employed it here, given that none of my brethren live close enough to really know what I’ve done, so I can at least hope that-”
“A DRAGON!?” Darkor called out, perhaps a little louder than he’d intended. His voice almost seemed to roar, echoing in the cave and making him a little nervous as he did so.
“Be careful with that! You’ll cause us both some inconvenience otherwise,” the dragon said, though Darkor could hardly understand the meaning of the words.
Trying to speak again, Darkor was surprised to feel a numbness in his tongue as the edges of it tickled his lips. With some shock, it seemed the expanding muscle could not be contained as he began to drool. Eventually, it hung unceremoniously out of his mouth and trying to bunch it up and back inside was a fruitless endeavor. It soon ran down past his chin, thinning and splitting in two, much like the tongue of his benefactor. It tickled the fringes of his chin, making him only just now aware the scales were encroaching over it, replacing his beard as the hairs fell out, likely forever.
Before he could try to moan his frustration, a crack in his jaw signaled it was soon to grow to accommodate his new tongue. It pushed out ever so slightly at first, muscle bubbling under the skin and altering his angular features. Crossing his eyes, Darkor could easily see the thing in front of his face, the bridge of his nose flattened and being taken down toward his upper lips. His newly formed muzzle remained blunt for the moment, but given the stature of the beast in the cave with him, that was likely not to be the case for long.
Sharp aches resonated through his shoulders as the blades started pushing inward, sloping into his flanks and pushing forward with his upper arms. The effect forced his arms underneath and gave credence to his inevitably four-legged stature, as much as he didn’t want it. “Why doessss it hurt ssssso much?” Darkor hissed, the reptilian infection not lost and leaving Darkor to wonder how the dragon spoke so clearly.
“That’s because you’re still resisting this,” Parvot replied, as it was the most common thing in the world.
“And how do I stop doing that!?” Darkor yelled, the pain of his chest barreling and compacting toward a form matching the black beast’s own.
“Humans. So fussy with semantics. Calm yourself, at the very least. You’ve still got a ways to go,” came the snide reply, though Darkor could hardly be sure of his tone.
It was a little reprieve from the reality that he was still growing, still changing. His muzzle pushed out just enough to make him aware of an increasingly heady stench in the air, one that spoke of the dragon and his musk. Having been aware of it already, it now seemed to burn into his nostrils as they flared to drink it in. And the more he did so, the more it seemed to trigger a sensation in his loins…
Though his clothing was still present around his hips and groin, hiding his shame, Darkor couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment. Having not had relations with anyone during the tenure of his training, it was a temptation he’d learned to overcome. But now, the lust was hitting him like a catapult to the point he could hardly remain standing, even as he struggled with the ongoing changes. He could only hope the dragon was not aware of his erection, not wanting to expose himself in front of such a beast.
Yet, that was not to be the case. “Yes, I didn’t want to elaborate on it before, but the process is rather…arousing. That’s sort of the point, I suppose, but still…”
“What do you mean? What did you do to me?!” Darkor stammered, not sure what he meant but feeling he didn’t want to know about it all the same.
“It’s easier for you to see for yourself, I’m afraid. Though I’d be remiss not to mention it might lead to some…unwelcome consequences, at first,” was the reply, something that left Darkor more concerned than ever.
There was little time to reflect on it for much longer as the ache in his cock grew to its apex. A moan escaped his lips as his cock began flaring uncontrolled, and the inside of his britches were coated with a load of sticky fluid. It was powerfully embarrassing, made worse by the fact it seemed not to cease, as though the entirety of his being was overcome to the point he had no energy to give. Wave after wave pulsated through his cock, filling his britches and making him powerfully uncomfortable.
The force of his swelling hips and expanding legs soon became too much for his underwear as it split apart from the inside. Thankful his cock was already starting to shrink after blowing its burden. The pressure was enough that he was soon rendered naked, groin exposed with the sickly sweet scent of semen, something he could not hope to hide from the dragon no matter how much he wished to.
Against his better inclinations, Darkor looked down at his member, still somewhat erect, though shrinking, too fast, as much as he’d prefer to keep it hidden regardless. He was not inclined to look at the dragon’s own groin, figuring there was nothing there to see and that anything was hidden away. And that was what he assumed was happening to his own member as it continued to retreat, the slit opening wider to encompass the entire head.
Darkor watched with a mixture of fright and embarrassment as his balls squeezed, putting pressure on his cock and forcing out what had to be the last quantities of his human semen. No sooner had it done so, his sack began to deflate, and what remained of his balls were drawn into the slit, leaving nothing but the flesh that seemed to merge with the underside of the new opening. To his surprise, what remained of his sex started to moisten, aching with an almost intense need to be touched that surpassed Darkor’s understanding. Was he possibly still aroused after that change? Then, where was his cock?
Yet, Darkor was still confused as to the implication, feeling the intense pressure of growth against his boots as the rest of his clothing was doomed to be forfeit. It was Parvot that drew him to the truth of his latest change, saying so with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation. “Oh, my, I thought as much…”
“What do you mean?” Darkor asked, concern creeping over his features.
“Well, part of the spell to change causes the subject to go into heat, as a form of reproduction. And since I am male, I am in need of…” He started, letting that thought trail off in the air.
“Wait, I’m turning into a female dragon?!” Darkor let out, unable to really comprehend the implication and afraid of what it meant for his future.
“I’m sure it’s better than death, no?” Parvot replied, a matter of factly.
“Well, yes, but…oh, fuck!” Darkor let out, the force through his sex flowing through to his pelvis and making him hunch over in surprise and panic.
“Such vulgarity! Well, I can hardly blame you, I suppose…”
Darkor could not retort to that as his pelvis shifted, and something started poking from the base of his spine, wriggling as soon as it possessed the ability. The changes continued their relentless march, hips widening and allowing the base of his new tail to thicken toward the girth of his belly. It was almost a third of the size of his body, and getting longer still, moving with amazing flexibility. Though he couldn’t quite stand up, it was becoming increasingly likely he would not be able to again with the forced changes to his spine and pelvis. It was stretching faster now, a series of snaps pushing his neck longer, belly broader, and tail even pressing against the wall of the cave he was sure he was well away from before.
Yet, even with the constant growth over his body, the sensation of his crotch moistening, aching with the need to be stimulated, was at the forefront of his thoughts. It was almost craving penetration, though such was foreign to the former man. Still, the scent of draconic musk in the air was doing him no favors, seeming to worsen the heat he was evidently in. And something else soon came to his notice, a thicker, heady scent that served to raise his arousal beyond the ability to think.
Had he the ability, Darkor might have begged the dragon for any reprieve from this horrific fate, hoping the beast could change him back. Yet, the sight before him was enough to snap him out of his trance, if only just. His question about draconic members was soon to be answered as his benefactor’s own slit opened up, revealing a red, leaking member the likes of which he could not imagine. It was jagged, thick spines on the underside with a bulbous base and a winking piss slit. Darkor didn’t know which was worse, the sight of the thing or the reality that he might want such a thing inside of him!
It seemed that Parvot was a little embarrassed himself, even though he had been the one to initiate the whole affair. “Yes, well, these things happen, of course, and, well, if you decide you, um, need some help…”
Darkor was still too infuriated to respond, moving a now longer neck to view his cunt lips, fluid leaking from between them to moisten himself for the eventual penetration from a male. To his shock and then pressure in his insides, the orifice was moving, growing closer to his anus, which itself was reorientating to take its place right under his tail. He was becoming more powerful, more horny, more…female. It wasn’t something he fully understood, though it mattered with the need in his loins. Gods, he could hardly muster enough ire for the dragon for doing this to him, perhaps once the heat in his crotch was quelled…
The only thing great enough to pull him from his lust-fueled stupor was the sensation of constant growth, body packing on hundreds of pounds in the span of moments. Looking down at the fragments of his clothing it was a wonder his black-scaled form could have ever managed to wear such things. Still, looking at the massive dragon in the cave, it was obvious he had some growth to do, less than half the size of the beast and likely to be close to that state by the time the spell had been completed.
“You still have a lot of growing to do,” Parvot said, a matter of factly. There was a sense of urgency in the words, as though he couldn’t wait for the time when Darkor was large enough to take that massive cock within him.
“You think!?” Darkor growled, hating the deeper cadence of his voice but knowing it was to be inevitable the more he grew closer to the body of his companion.
“Well, to be honest, I’ve never seen this particular spell performed, so..”
“You mean you’ve never done it before!?” Darkor roared, exasperated.
“Goodness, no, we can’t just go changing anyone into dragons. That would be inhumane. This was a…special case, I think,” came the reply, though the dragon sounded a little unsure of himself.
“Oh…oh fucrrrrroooooosssshhhhh!” Came a pained cry as the sensation of burning burst forth from his throat, followed by a shot of flame from his lips, something that should have scalded him but caused no damage save the initial irritation.
“Be careful with that!” Scolded the dragon, though he hardly had a leg to stand on, given he had not warned the poor changing man of such a possibility.
“How am I supposed to be careful?” Darkor roared, not aware that the flame was already bubbling in his gullet again. He was able to restrain it, though was prompted to belch a little, the smoky flavor burning through his throat and leaving him thankful his throat lining was protected.
The sensations of muscles tearing, scales spreading, and growth resonating all over were, unfortunately, familiar now as he reached a size closer to the beast whose attention was fixated on him. Rather, Darkor soon noticed that the dragon’s stare was focused down his backside, and reflexively, Darkor felt his cunt lips aching, leaking another bead of fluid as though finding the sight arousing. The fact that such a powerful, masculine dragon was interested in him had more of an effect on his psyche than it should have. Like the dragon’s instincts to mate were already playing over his mind…
“The magic is…rather…potent,” Parvot noted, that flush of embarrassment in his voice palpable again, even though he had been the one to initiate the change.
“Why are you still hard!?” “Darkor blurted out, though unable to look away from the dragon’s member.
“Well, you are a female in heat…and becoming a rather fetching one that that…”
Darkor felt himself blush a little at the compliment, even as his face pushed out more, providing a more angular visage as he was finally, thankfully, able to pull his tongue within it. His face was almost covered with scales at this point, and to his dismay, the pinpricks of spines pushing out from his cheekbones made him wince a little, forming a frill of sorts. The same spines burst forth from behind his ears, a bizarre stretching of the skin underneath signaling the formation of webbing between them. Though with his eyes forced forward, Darkor had only the sight of Parvot’s own to give him an indication of what he looked like. His ear canals still seemed present, and with enhanced hearing, he was able to detect the other dragon’s quickened heartbeat as well as his own, something that both scared and aroused him in equal measure.
It was hardly as bad as the horns that burst from his temples, bloodless though heavy on his head as they stretched behind his still human-shaped skull. He could feel them scraping the scales, leaving little space between them and his skull. It hurt a little, though not nearly enough to distract from the pain in his mouth, as though new dentures were sheering his gums. There were far more teeth than the human him had, though his stretching muzzle was enough to accommodate them, at least. Strangest was the forceful growth of his canines, far too massive for his mouth and looking out of place for his anatomy. Cutting into his lips, Darkot looked up at the dragon’s own maw, hoping that his face would eventually meet that of Parvot’s so that the discomfort would subside.
With the constant growth of his form, that would soon be the case. His tail thrashed against the dirt, front paws on the ground and holding up his weight. The changes were starting to play over his feet as well, heels having already burst out of his boots as his toes stiffened like his fingers had. It wasn’t until he noticed the sensation of claws digging into the ground that Darkor realized his feet had altered in the same way as his hands, though raising on the balls of his feet, he finally felt comfortable in his stance. Hips had already swelled into his flanks, and his belly had stretched rather lean, though powerful and muscled. He was clearly designed for four-legged travel, not that he fully understood the implications of such, something that befitted only an animal.
A gurgling in his guts made him certain his internal organs had shifted, though, with the ability to belch fire, he was sure they were already adjusted in some form. How he was kept alive during such a change, he had no idea, even with the magic sustaining him. Part of him wondered if he even wanted to be alive, obviously in the form of the creature that had killed his brethren. Of course, he did, but…Still, there was no denying the irony of his situation, and even the fact he needed to live to have his revenge meant little if this form was to be his for the rest of his life.
“I’m like some simple beast…” Darkor managed to mutter, though not thinking about the words before he said them.
“Excuse me, we are a superior race, I’ll have you know,” Parvot said, though not as offended by the words as he might have been.
“I think that’s a matter of o-opinion…oohhh…what now…” Darkor moaned, feeling a pain in his shoulders, as though the bones of his upper arms were separating. Looking back with a longer neck, he was privy to the sight of bones and muscles moving under the skin, pointing against the back of his former shoulders before the skin parted to allow their growth.
As though they were meant to be part of his anatomy, the two growths continued to push upward, almost weighty as they cracked with the development of joints and tendons. Bones soon filled in the gaps, to the point Darkor almost thought he was dealing with new arms. It was bizarre, especially as the pointed tips swelled and started to flex inward before erupting with five protrusions, ones that soon twitched with bones, muscles, and joints in their own right. Almost like they were…
Looking at the dragon’s own anatomy, there was only one possibility for the growth of a second pair of arms on his back. Even before the fingers started to stretch impossibly long, or the sticky sensation of something swelled from between the digits, forming a sheen of thin yet firm webbing, it was obvious he was developing the start of draconic wings. It was almost like moving his old arms as he extended them, feeling he could pull them through the air, perhaps like swimming. Already, they were massive in relation to his form, and despite the bizarre sensation of possessing them, Darkor couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to use them to the fullest.
“Wings…can I fly…?” He asked, as though talking to himself.
“Of course, you can,” Parvot said, bluntly.
“Well, I couldn’t before!” Darkor retorted, a little annoyed to be drawn out of the wonder and possibly the only other boon of turning into a dragon, likely forever.
The waves of growth, though more tolerable now, were ever persistent, to the point that he was nearly the size of the massive beast. Not quite there as the pangs seemed to ebb, and Darkor was left to wonder if females were smaller than males. Not that it mattered, to be fair, though if the male was to do anything with him more intimate… Wait, where had that thought come from?!
With a sudden compression of his skull around his brain, Darkor worried for a moment that he would lose himself, that his personality, experiences, and sense of self would be robbed from him, perhaps forever. Not that he had a basis for such thoughts, but still, that would be worse than death in a way, would it not? There was nothing to be done about it as his jaw pushed forward, forehead sloping and flattened to the point that no trace of his rounded human skull remained. But other than persistent attention to the lust in his loins and an increased ability to perceive draconic senses, Darkor felt no difference in his ability to think or his sense of self as the changes finished with him.
“I’m still me…” he muttered, not able to remove the strange, deeper inflection from his voice.
“Why wouldn’t you be?! You apes, thinking you are the superior race!” Snorted Parvot, sounding annoyed.
Yet, Darkor was distracted by something burning into his mind just then, eating away at him and making his entire body shiver in anticipation. The heat in his loins, ever-present, had been more tolerable as he changed and focused on the rest of his new body moving into place. But now that his mind and instincts were in line with his anatomy and proclivities, there was no denying how badly the heat was affecting him, to the point it was almost maddening to try and think about anything else. He had felt the twinges of lust before, but never before had the pious man experienced anything of this magnitude!
“Fuck…fuck…” Darkor moaned, clawing at the ground in an attempt to distract from the gnawing at his loins, almost calling for him it be fucked.
“Yes, that’s the general idea. I won’t force myself on you, but if you insist…”
Darkor looked at the dragon with a mixture of horror and lust. He couldn’t! And yet, he wanted it more than anything he could fathom, even beyond his thoughts of revenge. It seemed like another life in which he wished to slay this dragon, and now he wanted to be fucked by him. It was more than he could comprehend…maybe if he let himself be fucked…then he could think…
Without a word, Darkor moved around and raised his tail, exposing his eager, reptilian cunt lips and, hopefully, wafting the thick, heady scent of his heat. It was a reflexive action that spoke volumes of his need, though Darkor was still able to hiss out a “Fuck…me…”
No sooner had he whispered those words than he felt the thick, leaking tip of a dragon’s penis starting to tease his cunt lips, stimulating the outer folds and making him cry out. It was almost more than he could bear to feel that much pleasure, something he wanted more than anything to experience to a conclusion. Years of pent-up frustration were welling to the surface, along with a new vigor for life after such a close brush with death that did it for him. It mattered little with the physical embodiment of his lusts behind him, ready to take him into this new life ripe with pleasures of the flesh!
Yet, it was soon obvious even to the inexperienced former man, that the cock tip of Parvot’s member was too large to enter. Though he was leaking copious fluids, it seemed that Parvot could not find purchase, the opening too small for his sturdy prick to penetrate. Darkor reflexively firmed up his stance, though there was little he could do, wanting to take that rod within him but almost scared of it at the same time. Would it hurt? He certainly hoped not!
“Sorry for this. It seems you aren’t quite large enough. You’ll be in a few moments, I’m sure…” Parvot moaned though he appeared to have no inclination to wait, affected by the heat himself.
“W-what!?” Darkor hissed, though it was all he could manage before more of the mammoth member forced its way through. It was almost beyond what he could bear, and he called out with an “Oh, FUCK!”
“Yes, YES!”
“NONONONO!”
The force of the phallus within him was too much, Parvot pushing an impossible length of cock within him to the point Darkor was sure he was going to rupture from the inside. Worse were the penile spines he’d only briefly noticed now rubbed against his inner walls, sending sharp, shooting pains through his cunt. It was too much, even as the waves of agony started to give way to pleasure to the point the contrast was maddening. It sent paralyzing shivers through his body, and Darkor had no idea if he could keep control of himself through the physical sensations or the mental satisfaction of knowing he was being fucked by such a male.
As the spines from the bottom of Parvot’s penis fully unfurled, Darkor felt a sensation of agony wracking his body to the point he had to close his eyes, trying to shut out the pain as much as possible. Yet, it seemed the phallus found its within him, as though his insides had adjusted to fit in, and the pain was suddenly replaced by a wave of stimulation, one that caused him to roar out with a burst of flame. It was almost more than he could bear to the point it seemed he didn’t have much more time before…
“Oh fuck…I’m going to…” Darkor growled, not fully understanding what was to happen from a female perspective. It was like his male release, only slower, more gradual, and flowed from his entire body in a steady onslaught, enough he was barely aware of the world around him.
Even the pain of the dragon’s jaws clamping on his neck was not enough to stem his release, in fact, enhancing it to the point he was sure it was an orgasm washing over him. Waves crashed through his cervix to the point Darkor thought it might encompass his whole world. Yet, something even deeper than the physical sensations of release persisted in his mind, overwhelming his thoughts as soon as he was able to think coherently. Nothing he could imagine was more fulfilling than submitting to this beast, to this male, and even a sense of thankfulness fluttered through his mind to the point he was glad to be a dragon and fucked into submission. It was almost worth it, especially at the time of release!
Orgasm finally dying down, Darkor felt the desire to pull away, the heat in his body quelled for just a moment. But a growl from the usually well-spoken dragon froze him for a moment, enough that he realized he could not get away even if he really wanted to. He was stuck there, and soon to be more so as his elastic cunt lips reflexively opened up and the thick bulb at the base of the dragon’s cock shoved its way in, causing another wave of pain followed by the sharp spike of pleasure he had come to know.
“Oh, fuck…” Darkor moaned, realizing what was to happen. The thick cock within him started spasming wildly as something warm and creamy was ejected into his womb. Though it took him a moment to understand what had happened, it seemed as though the dragon had reached his own release, spilling his seed and biting even harder on Darkor’s neck, holding him to place as all he had to give was pumped into him with no regard for Darkor’s well being.
Darkor could hardly understand the repercussions of this, lost in the lust as he was and wanting nothing more than to bathe in the contentment of post-orgasmic bliss. The pressure against his insides was almost enough to bring him release once more, and he was close to asking the male to thrust again. Tied as he was to the great beast, it seemed Parvot was winded for a time, both of them waiting for his knot to soften and him to pull out. As it stood, Parvot had partially collapsed on Darkor’s back, though Darkor was more than sturdy enough to take it in its current form.
Eventually, Parvot’s member slid out of his slit of its own accord, and the dragon got down, followed by a rush of his seed. It was a little uncomfortable, and Darkor was almost inclined to see if he could reach back enough to clean it, as unsavory a prospect as that was. But Parvot seemed gleeful to help him out, licking his own cream from Darkor’s cunt and sending an orgasmic shiver through his being. Though he was sexually satisfied for the moment, it seemed that his dragoness body had more to give, and hoped that somehow, Parvot felt the same way. He could not see it from his point of view, but he could smell fresh precum leaking from the dragon’s cock, a brief rest apparently all he needed to service Darkor’s needs.
“How was that?” Parvot asked, nuzzling Darkor in a way that made the now female feel content and relaxed. It was almost like being tied to the dragon, similar to being owned, though not quite a word he could articulate in a human fashion. Perhaps dragons had a better way of expressing their periods of heat, but such was unknown to the formerly human man.
“I can’t…fuck…amazing…” He moaned, feeling Parvot teasing the back of his sex with a forked tongue to sample his own seminal secretions.
“Then would you care to go again, my dear…?”
******
Some weeks had passed since Darkor’s transformation, though she found it pointless to keep track of the time. He, now she, spent much of her time in the cave, her new mate bringing her all she needed to sustain herself. He was an avid hunter, and eager to teach her how to do so once her…burden had been alleviated. Something that would happen any day now, as much as she understood. Then, she would need to stay in the cave for months at a time, a prospect she was not looking forward to with so little to occupy her mind. Still, it was preferable to the unknown fate of death. She decided early on and was not inclined to complain aloud, feeling a sense of kinship with her savior that she did not wish to damper.
In truth, she did not like being a dragon, though there were aspects she was starting to grow accustomed to, aspects far easier than her human life. Being in the cave all day, every day was not preferable, as were the smells from her body, but at least the burning flames she was able to elicit took care of most of it, though carried their own annoyingly acrid scent. It was more proficient, at any rate, and she found it rather thankful, given she was stuck here as she was. And, of course, there was the sex, given the frequency of her heat and the desire she had to partake once they were in the cave together. Several times a day was the norm, as much as the male had to give, and even beyond the heat that had already been quelled. Sex for lust was amazing, but sex for the sheer pleasure of it…it was as though she was making up for lost time, now a sexual being with no regard to her past life’s chastity.
With the boredom she felt, there was plenty of time to contemplate her new lot in life, how she hadn’t really thought much beyond her revenge or what her new life would be like for the hundreds if not thousands of years that were now hers. She was sure the true culprit for the crimes she sought justice for was the dragon’s former mate, as he was far too much a gentleman that she could not see him perpetuating the loss of sentient life. And he was honest, as well, as much as she was able to discern. Still, would she try to kill his former mate in revenge if she had the chance? Would Parvot try to stop her? It was something that kept much of her thoughts in the ensuing days of her change.
The other constant was a persistent pressure against her insides, as though something was building within. Darkor had it on good authority what it was, as much as she didn’t want to dwell on the implications. It was part of her new reality now, finally understanding what Parvot meant by ‘giving in’. Besides, as Parvot put it, such would finally give her purpose whenever she complained of persistent boredom.
Parvot had the privilege to be present when it was time, something that seemed to delight him. Darkor figured it was fair enough, though he had no useful information for what was to come, having never fathered a clutch before. So Darkor was left to feel the aches growing in her loins, relying only on instinct as she squatted over her makeshift nest and prepared to push. The ache of something descending from within her was almost too much to bear, though Darkor did her best, the urge to expel at the forefront of her being. She allowed it to happen, much as instructed, though it was a little annoying to hear Parvot’s suggestions of how she should squat or how she should breathe. Such was more troublesome than it was worth, and eventually her growls of annoyance were enough to shut him up.
Soon, an internal lubricant started oozing out of her slit, and the object within because slick enough that the peristaltic waves of her sex allowed her to propel it downward. Feeling an almost orgasmic wave of pleasure, Darkor pushed with all she had, the object starting to crown the fringes of her sex. It seemed far too large to be ejected whole, though she had it under good authority that her elastic edges could open enough to take the bulb of a virile male, let alone expel the egg within…
By this point, it was too late to hold back, and an orgasmic wave played through her loins as the first egg moved toward the center. It was a little embarrassing to admit she liked it, to the point she was left in the afterglow of an amazing release. Parvot seemed not to judge, though he likely knew well by the expression on her face that she had cum. It was almost enough that she failed to notice the pressure being relieved as the egg slid from her slit, collecting in the nest she had made.
That was not the only one, of course, Parvot informing her it might be a dozen or more per clutch. And while that was a terrifying prospect, to raise that many offspring, it was not something she had to worry about for some time. In the moment, there was only the pleasure of laying, pain gone now that one egg had been voided from her. And if each brought forth that much pleasure…not to mention, her new mate had made more than one joke about trying for another batch, something she was willing to entertain. Maybe, just maybe, being a dragon for the rest of her life might not be so bad…